I Want
by Pho1297
Summary: But none of it really mattered. Because if I thought wanting someone so out of reach was bad, wanting someone you had, lost, and was just an arm's reach away, was agonizing. And that's all I want. Katniss. Oneshot! R


**Hey guys,**

**This is a short songfic on Peeta's thoughts during the Hunger Games about where he stands with Katniss.**

***Disclaimer* I do not own The Hunger Games by the amazing Suzanne Collins or I Want by One Direction.**

**Love Always,**

**~Pho:)**

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**I Want**

_Katniss._

Her name made my heart stop. It sent fear through my body. Sorrow. Angst. Relief. Adoration. Anger. Desperation. Compassion. _Longing._ Just so many mixed emotions coursed through my body as her name played on my tongue. As I'd watch her at the break of dawn, creep past the bakery's window and slink under the ill-electrified fence to take care of her family. I was very aware of what she did; I had all kinds of words to mask the ugly truth. Katniss provided. She hunted. She poached. _She broke the law on a daily basis. _But only to provide for her family.

To be so devoted to your family…an empty hope, I feel. I'm not very close with my brother, Ry, I guess you could assume. My mother despises my very existence. My father was the only one in my family I had a _real_ relationship with. My mother believes I'm the fool of the family that can never do anything right. The idiot who's in love with a beggar girl that doesn't know I exist. We're not the wealthiest people in Panem, we're far from being Capitol citizens, but we're well off for District 12. I never realized how good my family had had it until that rainy day when I was twelve.

There she was, the girl I'd fantasized about since I heard her voice in when we were five, cold, wet, sickly, hollow –looking, diving in the bakery's trash bins in hope that there may have been a crumb not collected. And she was thin. Overly thin. Her pale skin clung tightly to her sharp cheek bones and she looked as fragile as a porcelain doll in that over-sized jacket she wore. My mother heard the clashing together of metal and came tumbling down the stairs screaming profanities towards me, the girl digging through the trash, and al of Panem. My mother was never in a cheery mood.

I couldn't listen as she called Katniss so many horrible things, when all she was was hungry. I looked at her and saw fear in her eyes, which was I'd subconsiuously dropped into the cooler embers of the fire which kept my house warm, to cover my ears with my hands and shut my eyes tightly. I opened them again when I heard the back door slam and watched as Katniss's shoulders fell and she slumped her back against the tree, and I could see then and there, she'd given up all hope. The girl who made the birds stop to listen to her was going to die. I would lose her voice forever.

I wouldn't let that happen.

While my mother wasn't looking, I kicked the loaf of bread into the flames, knowing how severe my consequences may be. My mother was far too critical, and this, she beilieved, would only pass the standards of a pig. I pulled it out before it got too burnt, just in time for my mother to catch me. She came over in a huff, yelling at me words I wasn't quite paying attention to. She slapped me in my face - I can still feel the sting of her calloused hands against my face now - and ordered me to feed the burnt bread to the pigs.

I ran out timidly into the rain and first tore the piece off most burnt and threw it into the trough. When I was sure my mother's attention was somewhere else, I glanced up and tossed the bread in the direction of Katniss. It landed at her feet and she looked at it long and hard. Confusion played on her face and then hope. She met my eyes with a slight smile, and my mother called my name. I ran back inside and only hoped she'd last through the night.

From then on out, Katniss Everdeen had become my new obsession. I'd watch her precariously in the hall way, noticing how independent she's become. But even so, every time I saw her, I pictured that vunerable little girl. She caught me quite a few times, and I'd even see her watching me every now and then. No words were ever exchanged.

When her younger sister, Primrose's name was called in the Reaping, I knew what it meant. Prim would not be going into the arena in a weeks time. Katniss would. She volunteered, as I knew she would, because as I said before, family means everything to her. I expected her to win. I expected her to daze all of Panem, as she had me. What I did not expect was for my name to be picked out of that giant glass bowl.

I knew what it meant. I was going to die. Because there was no way I had a chance of winning if Katniss was thrown in there with me. I'd give every ounce of my life to protect her. I told our mentor, Haymitch this from the get-go. He hated both of us, but always liked her better. I believe it's because he sees so much of himself in her. So we devised a plan. We made the Girl on Fire not only memorable, but desirable. Me announcing my love for her during the interviews wasn't fabricated, it was one hundred percent real, but it was still for the show.

The star-crossed lovers act got people interested, they were rooting on one of us. That racked in the sponsors. By keeping us alive as long as they could, they kept the romance alive. It was all good television. I however, was not the only one that saw it like this.

I laid dying by the creek, and Katniss found me. She cleaned the wound Cato left and as squeamish as she was, did her best to nurse me back to health. She found me shelter, away from the world, even though there were cameras everywhere. She seemed as if she couldn't bare the idea of living without me, and she kissed me. Of course, I was cold and delusional, but her lips on mine seemed to bring me back to life each time they met. She gave me hope, and never lost hope in me. She put up with me, and I knew I was only getting worse. She risked her life to save mine. She made me believe she loved me.

When the mutts attacked, she knew she had choices to make. When Cato had gotten his hold on me, she looked as if she'd rather turn her bow on herself than risk taking me down with Cato. I was bleeding again, badly. She knew it was my life of my leg. When they announced again, there could only be one victor, she was fully prepared to give her life for mine. I've seen the footage of us on the hovercraft; as I barely clung to my life, she tried desperately to try and save me one more time. She held me so close during our final interviews with Ceasar Flickerman, and I could swear I saw love in her eyes.

And I thought, _finally, _finally_, she's mine. Katniss can be mine, and no one else's. _There was no games in the way, no twenty-two other children trying to kill us. There wasn't a matter of social class because we were now both victors. We were free to be left to ourselves. Free to be in love.

But everything turned out to be an act. To keep me alive. To keep her alive. She pretended to love me. Lies and deception was all it was. But none of it really mattered. Because if I thought wanting someone so out of reach was bad, wanting someone you had, lost, and was just at arm's reach, was agonizing.

And that's all I want.

_Katniss._

_**I want, I want, I want, but that's crazy.**_

_**I want, I want, I want, and that's not me.**_

_**I want, I want, I want to be loved by you.**_

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__**Not sure how happy I am with this...**

**There are a few spelling mistakes, but not many, one or two maybe.**

**This is just what I felt was how Peeta felt after he realized Katniss didn't really love him.**

**So...**

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**And please, review it.**

**~Pho:)**


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